


Long Nights

by ardat_yakshi_stole_my_cookie



Category: Tenet (2020)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Blood and Injury, But not much really, Explicit Language, F/M, Implied Smut, Minor Violence, Teasing, basically playing with various rogue tropes here and there, this started as an idea for some shameless hand content and now here we are with a whole new series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29386794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardat_yakshi_stole_my_cookie/pseuds/ardat_yakshi_stole_my_cookie
Summary: all days blend into one, and as your friend brings back an unusual challenge, you are more than happy to accept it
Relationships: Neil/Original Female Character(s) (Tenet), Neil/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Don't kill my vibe

You absent-mindedly swirled your coffee and ice cubes clinked against the tall glass as you watched a gutsy pigeon searching for crumbs under a table right next to yours. The green and purple feathers on its collar were shining in the morning sun, not as merciless as it was about to get in just a few hours, but still heating the crowded plaza to barely acceptable levels.

“I don’t know, man, all days blend into one, maybe it’s time to skip town again.”

Mahir leaned back on his chair, his glance sliding through the swarm of tourists pouring from the alley nearby.

“No new gigs?”

You mirrored his pose and shrugged.

“Some, but they just lack… pizzaz.”

“ _Pizzaz_?”

“Yes,” - you sighed and gestured vaguely - “that certain _oomph_ , that sparkle, excitement, when your heart starts beating faster at the sole thought–”

“You sure you’re not looking for…would say love but I know you too well, so… a good shag?” your companion chimed in with a sardonic smile plastered on his face.

You scoffed, amused by that insinuation.

“First of all - thank you,” you started, your eyes lighting up and your grin getting wider with every word. “Second - that thrill is better than a good shag, and after a job well done, you can ride that high much longer than even the best orgasm.”

“Forget I said anything–”

“And finally,” - you continued, ignoring his distressed groan - “you skip all the awkwardness of the morning after.”

Mahir raised his hands in defeat, and even though he looked as if he took a mental note to never tease you like that again, you were sure he knew exactly what you meant. After all, he was your favorite _partner in crime_ , and even though he’d come clean (…or at least _slightly cleaner)_ a few years ago, you still could count on him whenever you needed to pull off a spectacular and/or a straight-up batshit crazy stunt.

“How’s Paddsy?”

“Grand, as far as I know, but haven’t heard from him in years, why?” you asked, tilting your head.

Your friend looked at you with impish sparks in his eyes.

“I remember how you kept yourself amused during your teenage years.”

“The challenges?” You raised your brow and laughed at the memory. “Ha, petty theft is one way to fight a dullness of existence, all right.”

“I bet you’ve gotten sloppier with age.”

That taunt in his overly casual tone was clear as day. Were you really that bored, though?

“Please, I could do it right here and now without any prep.”

_…yes_.

He sent you a smug smile and started browsing the crowd for a possible target. “Okay, what about… that guy over there?”

You followed his gaze and your eyes laid on a pair of men, lost in a conversation, keeping to the peripheries of tourist groups as they walked through the square. One of them was gesturing with enthusiasm, a wide smile brightening his tanned face, the blond hair in complete disarray combined with a slightly unbuttoned white linen shirt with rolled-up sleeves and beige trousers completed a disheveled look. Couldn’t be older than thirty. He was accompanied by a more composed middle-aged Black man, a maroon polo shirt and grey suit pants complimented his fit and refined posture.

“The yellow mane or the polo shirt?” you asked and Mahir snorted in response.

“The polo one.”

You looked the stranger up and down as you assessed the case. Even from afar, you could see an outline of a wallet in the pocket of his trousers, and the short sleeves meant easy access to the watch.

You smacked your lips and pouted. “Too easy.”

“Okay, so both of them,” he said, watching with satisfaction as you perked up at the suggestion.

“Now we’re talking!” you laughed, clapping your hands. You pointed at Mahir’s camera sitting on the table, internally blessing his choice of hobbies. “Mind if I borrow this for a moment?”

“Sure, whatever.”

You bounced at your feet and grabbed the camera and its case, securing both straps on your shoulder. A sudden rush mixed with a familiar coldness as you got your head in the game.

“Be right back.”

Circling the crowd, you positioned yourself on the path of your targets, blending in with the crowd. Right then, nobody would tell you from other slaphappy sightseers, mesmerized by the architecture of the Old Town district. Stopping abruptly every few steps to take yet another photo. Too preoccupied to pay attention to your surroundings. Making it way too easy to bump into someone, you know? Or, if you were clumsy enough, two people one after another, in a little _live-action pinball_ moment.

You raised the camera and stepped back right into the polo guy, yelping at the impact.

“Sorry!” you squealed, jumping out of his way. Straight into the blonde man. “Oh gee, I’m terribly sorry!”

“You all right?” he asked as he caught you, placing hands on your arms for a split-second hold, enough to prevent you from bouncing back and bumping into someone else.

You turned around and met the bright blue eyes studying you curiously.

“Yep,” you mumbled through sheepish laughter. “And you?”

He beamed, raking his unruly hair with his fingers.

“Yeah.”

Your gaze flitted back to his companion, who was looking at you two with polite interest, visibly eager to continue his stroll.

“Sorry again! Have a lovely day, gents!” you chirped, sending one more apologetic smile and squeezing between them to walk away in the opposite direction.

Ten steps later you twirled around. Aiming the camera at a statue nearby, you checked on the men with the corner of your eye. The blonde guy glanced over his shoulder for a moment, but he didn’t seem suspicious. _Good_.

You made your way back to the cafe and fell back on your chair.

“No sweat,” you said and smirked, handing the camera back to Mahir and placing the case on the table. You turned it around so he could see what was inside - two watches, some mileage card you pulled out of the polo guy’s wallet, and something you grabbed from the other one… an Oyster card for public transport in London? _What a combo._ And of course, you could have picked the entire wallets instead, but what would be the fun in that? You didn’t have to make their life _that_ much harder, after all, you just wanted to prove a point.

Mahir peeked inside and smacked his tongue.

“Okay, you still got it.”

“Damn straight!” You reached for your abandoned coffee and emptied it in one swig. “But I’d better get going.”

“Wait, what about the loot?”

“Keep it,” - you shrugged, leaning in to place a small kiss on the bearded cheek - “and tip that nice waitress well, will ya?”

“Sure,” sighed Mahir and patted your hand on his shoulder. “Be careful out there, mate.”

“Always.”

You stepped out on the sunny square again. There was nothing particularly interesting on the agenda for the day, so you decided to take a longer and more scenic route to your apartment. You put on the headphones and with your usual playlist on shuffle, you maneuvered between groups of people on your way to one of the alleys. And just as you were about to cross the road, someone blocked your path. You glanced up and it took all your self-control to maintain a neutral expression, despite all the warning sirens blaring at the full volume inside your head. _How even–_

“Darling! Long time no see!” said the blonde man _you’d just robbed_ gleefully and grinned, his arms spread wide as if you’d known each other for years. Without dropping a jovial face, he leaned in and gave you a chaste hug, using the opportunity to utter straight into your ear. “Don’t make a fuss and come with me.”

_Bloody fantastic._

The stranger linked your arms together and started walking down the street, pulling you with him in a little _too_ rushed version of a friendly stroll. It wasn’t your first rodeo, though.

“Where are you taking me?” you squealed, faking badly covered distress and scouting the area in search of his partner, but the polo guy was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, we need to have a little chat,” he said nonchalantly, securing a grip on you with another hand on your arm. “And the streets today are awfully loud, don’t you think?”

He dragged you into a back alley, losing the chummy demeanor with every step further away from the crowds. Lucky for you, the new setting worked in your favor. You’d been indulging him long enough, anyway.

Shifting your balance, you stomped hard on his foot, using the element of surprise to break free. Grabbing the blonde strands, you pulled his head down to meet your flying knee. A muffled groan escaped the stranger’s mouth and his curses followed you when you dashed to a small back street to your right. These few seconds of a head start were more than enough though, especially since you knew the area like the back of your hand. And that’s why you didn’t hesitate when you reached a chain-link fence. You jumped and bounced off the wall, pulling up on the edge and vaulting through the obstacle with ease, then gracefully landed on the other side and turned around just to see the man hitting the fence with frustration. He glared at you, wiping the blood from his face, and you almost felt sorry for him. _Almost_.

“See ya!” you giggled and blew him a kiss, disappearing into another alley.

You emerged on the main street at a reasonable distance from the place you’d left the stranger, weaving between people on the busy pavement, making sure nobody followed you. After a few blocks, you grew quite certain that you’d lost the unwanted tail. You smiled to yourself. The day turned out to be way more exciting than you could have expected. And it wasn’t even noon yet. 

You noticed a dark grey SUV pulling over next to you, but by the time you realized what was going on, it was already too late. The next thing you knew, you got dragged into the backseat and trapped between the blonde man and the polo guy. _Shit_.

You glanced at the driver, searching for clues about what you’d gotten yourself into. The woman behind a wheel gave off a paramilitary vibe, but you couldn’t be sure. Anyway, there was no point in trying to escape - you needed to wait for a more suitable moment. You didn’t have too much room to squirm around, so you just fixed your gaze on the road ahead.

“Well, this is awkward,” you said, breaking the silence as the car started moving again.

“As my colleague said - we need to talk.”

You looked to your right at the polo man. “Abduction is such an underrated conversation starter.”

“So is theft,” he noted, a shade of smile tainting the corner of his mouth. “I really liked that watch.”

“I have no idea–”

“We’ve checked the square’s surveillance system,” he interrupted you, but his statement was so ridiculous you just had to laugh it off.

“Now you’re insulting me.”

He raised a brow as he studied you with satisfaction. “You’d rather admit that you’re guilty?”

“No,” - you bridled, slowly getting tired of the whole charade - “but there’s no way you got to the feed so fast, and with how crowded it was out there, there is no way you’d find anything incriminating in there.” You hesitated for a moment, then narrowed your eyes. “Speaking of– how did you even find me?”

A sudden movement to your left made you switch focus to the quiet blonde man. Still pressing a bunch of bloodied tissues to his face, he showed you his phone - a red dot was blinking steadily in the middle of a screen.

… _tracking?_ You opened your mouth to ask a follow-up question, but then it hit you and your eyes flared up. _That hug._

“Sneaky. I like it.” You grinned and nodded at him. “How’s your nose?”

He lowered his hand with the tissues. It was bruised and swollen, but you couldn’t tell if you’d managed to break it or not. Still - _ouch_.

“Never better,” he said and grimaced slightly.

“You should put some ice on it.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“You don’t say.”

Biting your lip to stifle a giggle, you glanced back to your right. “So? What do you wanna talk about?”

The other man shook his head.

“Not in the car. We’re almost there.”

You looked out of the window to find out you were driving into an industrial zone, and not the nice part of it. You didn’t mind, though - abandoned and creepy factory buildings were your jam, and they made excellent locations if you ever needed a chance to escape.

After a few minutes, you reached your destination. You got out of the car parked near the entrance to an empty hall. The sunbeams were pouring inside through the broken windows near the ceiling, lighting up a small metal table and a pair of chairs.

“Kudos for prepping such a dramatic setting, gents,” you laughed, taking a seat at the table. The polo man sighed and sat in front of you, sliding a folder with documents your way. You peeked inside, only to confirm your suspicions. They got some serious dirt on you, all right.

“Let’s start again, properly this time. This is Neil,” - he said, pointing at his companion, who was standing nearby, leaning against a pillar - “and I’m The Protagonist.”

You gaped at him and slumped your shoulders. “ _The_ _Protag_ –…you’re shitting me,” you huffed, but the man was staring at you indifferently. “Dude, your parents must hate you,” you snorted, not even trying to keep a straight face. “What’s wrong with– …I don’t know, _David_? Or some of the classics, like John?”

“That’s how everyone here addresses me, and I’d like you to do the same.”

“Do I have to?” you groaned as you looked at Neil. He simply nodded, so you had no other option but to roll with it. _For now_. “Ugh, fine,” you said, shrugging. “You guys are spies or something?”

“ _Or something_ ,” said The Protagonist. “We use certain espionage techniques to our advantage.”

“Sure,” - you scoffed - “next thing you’re gonna tell me is that you need my help to save the world.”

Neil’s amused snort made you glance at him again. “Well, maybe indirectly.” Playful sparks lit up his eyes as he gave you a half-smile. 

_Are they for real?_ If that was an elaborate prank, this would be a good _gotcha_ moment, but the men seemed serious enough.

You shifted on your seat, laughing nervously.

“Sorry to disappoint, but you’ve got the wrong gal.”

The Protagonist pointed at the folder in front of you.

“We need someone with your skills.”

_…right_. “Such as?”

“Lockpicking.”

You arched a brow. “Why? You need me to crack something for you?”

“No.” The Protagonist shook his head and took a deep breath. “We need you to teach our agents how to do it.”

“Hard pass,” you said, crossing your arms. “I’m not a tutor material.”

All of a sudden, a familiar voice rang behind you.

“Show her the lock.”

And then you connected all the dots.

“Mahir, you asshole!” you fumed, glaring at your friend as he joined you by the table. “ _Sloppier with age,_ I swear, you’re the main reason I have trust issues!”

“Main?” - he sent you a skeptical look - “What about–”

“Okay, you’re in _top three_ , but mind you, today’s stunt alone got you five places up the table.”

“Oh no, I’m gonna cry myself to sleep tonight,” he mocked in his usual deadpan manner.

You huffed - “You better,” - mentally kicking yourself for falling for his ruse so easily. Maybe he was right. Maybe you’d lost your edge. That’s what you got for staying in one place for too long. You blinked rapidly, getting out of your head to focus on an item The Protagonist placed on the table. A small metal lock, pretty basic. No security pins, but you knew this model was made with sloppy tolerances that could give any beginner a headache.

“What’s so special about it?”

“Give it a try,” said The Protagonist and waved his hand in encouragement.

You reached to the pocket of your pants for a compact set of lockpicking tools you always had on you. Nothing fancy, rather a handy emergency set than anything serious - those were safely stored in your apartment, ready for the real work. Unlike the one you were about to do. Or so you thought.

You placed a tiny wrench at the bottom of a keyway and applied a minimal amount of tension, trying to set the first pin inside using a short hook. _Trying and failing._ The feedback from the tools was bizarre, like the regular laws of physics no longer applied to the lock’s mechanism.

“What in the fresh hell–” you uttered through gritted teeth, pulling out the tools to examine the peculiar lock.

Mahir smirked. “Enough _pizzaz_?”

“Shut up, I’m still mad at you,” you waved at him dismissively and focused back on The Protagonist, who was watching your attempts with polite interest. And a hint of a satisfied smile. “Where did you get that?”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you,” he replied, leaning back on the chair. “At least for now, that is _if_ you’d like to reconsider our proposal.”

You nibbled on your bottom lip, drumming the fingers on the table. _Mahir, you bastard._ Of course he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist an offer like this. Even if that meant a certain commitment, and _that_ wasn’t something you were particularly fond of.

“Fine,” you sighed. “But I’m gonna teach only _one_ person.”

“Deal.”

As you shook on it, Neil left his spot by the pillar.

“That will be me.”

You nodded in agreement and asked, “What about the lock?”

“Keep it,” said The Protagonist, standing up. _As if he’d share the secrets straight away_. “I want to hear your thoughts on it the next time we see each other.”

“And when is that gonna be?”

He just smiled enigmatically. “Soon. Mahir - a word?”

“Is he always like that?” you asked Neil as you got up, watching the others making their way towards the exit, but he just shrugged in return.

“He’s a busy man.”

You eyed your _soon-to-be_ student curiously, and he responded in such, although suddenly losing some of the confidence he’d had before. Even with the bruised face, he radiated with this natural charm, a soft smile and the blonde strands falling into the bright blue eyes only adding to the overall appeal.

“Sorry about the nose.”

“Thanks,” - he smirked - “can’t blame you for that though, right?”

Grinning, you extended your hand in an informal truce offering.

“No hard feelings then?”

“Not at all,” he said as your palms clapped together and you smacked each other’s arms playfully.

With any leftover tension gone, all you had to do was to discuss the schedule and a few other crucial details. Neil took some notes and promised to get everything ready over the next few days. He even offered to drive you home, but you politely turned him down. A long walk, even _slightly_ longer than previously anticipated, seemed more tempting.

Your fingers brushed against the weird lock in your pocket and you smiled to yourself.

For the first time in months, your heart started beating a little bit faster.


	2. Praise you

You cracked it.

It took you a good while, though. A whole sleepless night, even.

And half of the morning after that.

But maybe the absolute exhaustion was the key, pun intended.

At first, it boggled your mind so much that you were dangerously close to using brute force just to examine that lock. You tried every technique that you could think of - to no effect. It wasn’t like anything you’d seen before. The mechanism wasn’t responding as usual, it was more like a thing from goddamn Upside Down, or however the fuck that was called.

It became a matter of pride.

The sun had risen over an hour ago and the sunlight was pouring through the gaps in the blinds. Grasping at the last strands of sanity, you decided to take a break. You put on your headphones and danced around your apartment to the sounds of a song with that one bloody line that somehow seemed fitting for this madness.

_Is it worth it? Let me work it, I put my thang down, flip it and reverse it_

Because it felt exactly like that was what had happened to it. And no amount of cursing and switching tools would help in the face of glitched reality.

And when you sat down at your desk again, with your head so empty that your last brain cell was amusing itself by yodeling and listening to an echo, you bound the first pin. The sound was so distorted it almost startled you. The last thing you needed right then was to break the hook inside the keyway, so you leveled your breath and continued, even though your fingers cramped painfully. That wasn’t enough to stop you. Not as you finally got proof that the task was actually within your reach. 

With every _click_ like a backwards version of the sound you knew so well, the next pins got set quicker and smoother. And when you opened the lock, you couldn’t help the cheerful scream that escaped your mouth.

“Fuck yes!” You punched the air, the adrenaline rushing through your veins, the biggest grin lighting up your face.

That’s when you knew there was no way you were going to sleep anytime soon. Besides, you still didn’t know _how_ you managed to convince that device to cooperate. You had to prove to yourself that it wasn’t dumb luck, and should you ever come upon a bloody nightmare like that, you’d be able to use the experience to crack it open. Because of that, you spent the next couple of hours reverse-picking it _(which turned out to be another level of bonkers)_ to lock the damn thing, only to open it back again. And again. And then three times more. When you got comfortable with the process, your eyes were burning, your fingers stiff and trembling, but the immense satisfaction was worth every bit of it.

You were about to crash on the bed as your phone buzzed, and you glanced at the incoming message.

_//did you pick it?_

At first, you assumed you got it from Mahir, but as you were typing in a long rant, you realized that there was no history of the previous conversations on the screen, so you checked the sender again.

Neil.

_Huh_.

You’d exchanged the numbers the day before, but you didn’t expect to hear from him until they got everything ready to start the lessons. _Oh well_. You snapped the picture of the open lock and sent it back, adding a short message.

_//that was fun, hope you have more of them_

As you faceplanted on the bed, the phone buzzed with a reply.

_//N: you bet_

You couldn’t wait to get all the answers about how they managed to manufacture the most bizarre and mind-bending thing you’d ever seen, but there was no point in asking those questions over the phone. Plus, you really needed to get some rest.

_//awesome! now excuse me, imma get some Zs - let me know when you guys are ready to start_

After a second, you typed in another text.

_//ps. how’s your nose?_

_//N: will do, sleep well!_

_//N: as for my nose…let’s say I’m glad it wasn’t the straightest one in the first place_

That cheeky bastard.

_//hey, don’t try to guilt-trip me, i’m trying to sleep_

You almost drifted off, but you couldn’t resist checking that last notification.

_//N: …I wouldn’t dare_

Snorting, you rolled to the side.

Then you fell asleep, dreaming of the impossible locks.

* * *

It took them another day to prepare all the stuff, and after several further messages, you got a date and location.

The building looked like a contemporary tenement house, definitely standing out from two older ones at its sides. You always assumed it belonged to one of those fancy start-ups, but apparently it was some sort of temporary headquarters of your new associates.

It didn’t surprise you that you weren’t given a tour of the place, you assumed you needed to have some sort of clearance to walk freely through the area. For now, you were restricted to the ground floor, or rather to the lobby and your _classroom -_ a rather cozy space, but equipped with everything you needed to begin.

Neil turned out to be a fast learner, at least when it came to covering the theoretical side of lockpicking. You walked him through the basics, but you couldn’t help the itch in the back of your brain. After the encounter with the preposterous lock, your mind started to question everything that used to be unshakeable.

And of course you asked Neil about that bloody device as soon as you saw him, but he just smiled lightly and said that The Protagonist insisted on telling you all that himself when the time was right. So you had nothing left to do but to continue with the lessons, hoping that you the man himself would decide to grace you with his presence sooner than later.

You propped the chin on your hand and watched as Neil grabbed the tools. Your gaze wandered over his outrageously long fingers as he gave the lock a try, but apparently, the most idiotic grin on your face didn’t go unnoticed.

“Hey, eyes up here,” snorted Neil, and you looked at him just to meet his amused face. He caught you shamelessly staring, and there was no point in denying it.

Trying to salvage your mental coherence, you choked out, “Dude, your hands are–”

“What?” he asked, tilting his head.

“… _huge_ ,” you finished, the wide smile not leaving even for a second. You bit your lip and glanced back at Neil. “Don’t mind me, I’m just gonna stare for a bit longer.”

A hint of a blush crept upon his cheeks. _My, oh my._ Blinking rapidly, he cleared his throat and proceeded to bind the first pin, pressing his mouth into a thin line in an attempt to keep a composed demeanor. The sparkles in his gaze were quite telling, though.

The sight was utterly adorable, but more importantly, it planted a rather gut-busting idea into your head.

You stifled a giggle.

All in due time.

* * *

One of the perks of the location was a small cafe on the other side of the street.

Neil took you there on your second day during a break, walking in with a confidence of a true regular. He knew the staff by name and vice-versa, so it didn’t surprise you as he charmed his way through the conversation.

“I’ve got this,” he said, raising a hand to stop you before you could place your order. “One black coffee and one–…” he hesitated, still preventing you from chiming in. You crossed your arms and watched as his forehead creased, the confidence leaving him with every second passed. He narrowed his eyes, and you could almost hear the gears grinding in his head.

Whatever he was doing, _or trying to do_ , it was time to put him out of his misery.

“Iced mocha for me, please,” you said, wondering which one of you had a more puzzled expression. “Cat got your tongue?”

Neil shook his head.

“No, it’s just…” - he let out a small sigh - “I can’t read you.”

“Good,” you snorted. “Why would you want to, anyway?”

The young barista smiled, putting the first coffee on the counter.

“Oh, your colleague here has _a thing_.”

“Oh?” You arched a brow. “Do tell!”

“It’s nothing,” said Neil, cringing slightly, but it wasn’t enough to prevent the enthusiastic answer from spilling from the barista.

“He likes to guess the orders of his companions, but this is prolly the first time I ever saw him freeze like that. Can’t wait to tell Doris!”

Neil groaned, avoiding your amused stare. “Spare me, Max.”

“Aww, man, I’m honored to be your first!” you teased, nudging his arm lightly and snickering at the absolutely done face he gave you in return.

That cafe quickly became your place of choice during breaks, but sometimes, if the weather was nice enough, you ordered to-go, just to spend that bit of free time between lockpicking sessions sitting on a grassy hill overlooking a bank of the river. You chatted about everything and nothing in particular, or simply sat in silence, enjoying the ambiance, beverages, and each other’s company.

The last thing took you by surprise, in a way. You’d expected those brief moments of a break during the day to be your sacred moments of solitude, the usual necessity to avoid getting too cranky around people. As Neil joined you on that second day, you found out that his presence was not bothering you, or at least your _social batteries_ weren’t being drained in their regular manner. Sure, it probably helped that he was _incredibly_ easy on the eyes, but a real treat were those moments when you ventured onto a territory he felt strongly about. In a wink, he was ready to drop his typical composure just to go straight into bubbly rants, gesturing wildly, the blue irises lit by the fire that he most often kept under wraps.

There was nothing more boring than people who lacked passion.

Lucky for you, that was not the case with Neil.

Moreover, he made you laugh.

A dangerous combination.

Alluring, even.

Good thing that you were not one to become smitten that easily.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t have some fun, though.

* * *

“You need to listen to what the lock has to say,” you prompted, pacing through the room and watching as Neil struggled with a new type of mechanism. “It’s all about feedback.”

He pulled out the tools and rubbed his face, trying to hide the first hints of frustration.

“What if we apply heavier tension to amplify it?” he said and glared at the lock as if it was taunting him from its place on the practice stand.

“Sure, “ - you leaned over the table to rest the chin on your laced fingers - “but can you think of any reasons _not_ to do that, my dear _Physics Boy_?”

“The higher possibility of breaking tools?”

“Precisely,” you said as you snapped and pointed your fingers. ”Also, you risk binding the pins too tightly and you wouldn’t want that, either.”

Neil sighed and slumped his shoulders.

“So…patience, then?”

“Yes,” you beamed. “It really comes down to one thing - you have to feel it.”

A corner of his lips twitched. “I’ve heard it before,” he said, shifting in his seat.

You shrugged, eyeing him curiously. 

“Maybe because that’s one universally useful advice?”

“Would help if I understood it, too.” He gave you a weak smile, but his expression told you he wasn’t convinced.

You hummed in acknowledgment.

“Listen, I can smarten it up for you, but let me just show you what I mean.” You grabbed the second pair of tools from the table and placed them inside the keyway, but as soon as you opened your mouth to provide some follow-up instructions, you got struck by a better idea. Your eyes flared up. “Okay, know what? I’m just gonna– if you could scoot back a bit–…” you said, shuffling in his direction. Neil’s brows snapped together in consternation, but he moved back. Without further ado, you sat down in front of him, nestling yourself between his spread legs on the edge of the chair, and let out a contempt sigh. “Should be easier now. Put your hands on mine.“

Neil tensed, and you could swear you heard him swallowing hard behind your back. He followed your suggestion, wrapping his arms around you and placing his hands on top of yours. 

“Now, lay your fingers on the tools just above mine,” you continued as you slid your digits back to make more room for him. “Great, try not to press them and focus. Close your eyes, if you want.” As you gently moved the tools, you couldn’t resist but to add, “You can breathe though, you know?”

“ _Blimey._ ”

You giggled at the sarcastic bit in his tone and drew a long breath, hoping that Neil would follow it, and focused back on the lock. Purposefully slowing down your movements to allow him to feel how the mechanism responded to your ministrations, you kept sliding the hook back and forth the keyway, setting pin after pin. Neil relaxed after a moment, his shallow breath ghosting over your shoulder got deeper and more steady. His palms rested heavier on your hands, and you marveled at their size again, nibbling on your bottom lip. With all your senses sharpened, you stole a brief moment of self-indulgence, closing your eyes and relishing in the warmth radiating from Neil, the way it enveloped you, carrying a scent of his cologne - airy citrus undertones mixed with hints of powdery musk, a fresh and unostentatious combination you found fitting him so well.

The final _click_ , more pressure and _voilà_ \- the lock was open.

“Did you feel it?” you asked softly, weirdly unwilling to move, hoping to linger in the position for a little while longer. 

“Yes,” said Neil, and his husky voice made you turn your head to look at him. As he pulled his hands back somewhat hesitantly, you noticed his dazed expression and slightly flushed cheeks.

“Good,” you chirped, grinning, then reached out over your shoulder and lightly booped his nose, enjoying _probably a bit too much_ the way his eyes widened. “Your turn.”

* * *

Days. Weeks. Or was it months, _plural_?

You lost track of how much time had passed since that morning in the Old Town district.

The progress was counted by the number of models you introduced to Neil, showing him all the tricks you’d learned over the years. You still waited for the meeting with The Protagonist, although, ever since your student spilled a little _too_ much information during one of his enthusiastic rants at the breaks (seriously, how could a person _that_ bad at keeping secrets survive so long in any sort of spying business was beyond you), your initial _curiosity itch_ had been scratched, and you were now in that blessed moment before it got unbearable again and demanded taking further actions.

It also helped that you found tremendous joy in coming up with new ways to make the lockpicking sessions challenging. And entertaining. Even if the last part was mostly a one-sided thing.

Neil was clearly feeling confident that evening. He really started to get a hang of this, and you loved watching him like that - fully focused, blonde strands falling to the eyes, with the tip of the tongue poking out…

It would be a shame if someone was to test his level of concentration.

“You know, I spend so much time looking at your hands that they recently started making cameos in my dreams.”

The blue eyes darted at you from under raised brows.

“Is that so?“ asked Neil, switching his attention to the lock again.

“Yep. Mind you, most of those dreams are rather uneventful.” You pouted, sliding from your place on the windowsill. “Still waiting for one that is not so _boringly_ PG-13.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line and swallowed with effort.

_…warmer_ …

Circling the table, you stopped behind Neil’s chair.

"I’m just saying,” - leaning over, you purred right into his ear - ”that such long fingers like yours can give a girl _all_ sorts of ideas–”

_Snap_.

You bit back a satisfied smile and smacked your tongue. “Those were perfectly fine tools, you know.”

Neil turned in his seat and gaped at you.

“Why are you like this?” he complained, helpless and flustered.

You shrugged. “I thought it was a high time for a little stress test. Might come in handy later.” Snickering at his puzzled face, you added, “What? You’re not exactly in a stress-free line of work.”

He shook the head lightly and scoffed. “… yeah, I see your point,” he said, a corner of his mouth curling into a half-smile. “But I don’t think there’s a high risk of someone trying to seduce me in the field.”

“Do you think that’s what I’m doing?” you asked, arching a brow, your tone nothing but serious.

“I-…”

The panicked look on his face as he blinked rapidly was more than enough to break your deadpan façade.

“Oh man, I’m just pulling your leg. You should’ve seen your face though.” Giggling, you grabbed a fresh lock from a shelf and tossed it to Neil. He sighed and replaced the messed-up device. “Besides,” you continued, “if there is one thing that the espionage movies have taught me, it’s that the spy always has plenty of beautiful creatures willing to keep his bed warm.”

The playful sparks appeared in Neil’s eyes.

“Is this a very elaborate way of asking me if I’m seeing someone or are you volunteering?”

_Well, well, well._

“What if it’s both?”

“Then the first answer is _no_. As for the second one–” he hesitated, tugging the bottom lip between the teeth. “…a follow-up question - is it a good idea?”

You tilted your head, sitting down on the edge of the table in front of him.

“Why?”

“What if it’s gonna make things… I don’t know, _weird_?”

You gestured vaguely. “Can’t get any weirder than all your timey-wimey, inverted entropy bullshit.”

“That’s not exactly–”

“I know what you meant,” you sighed and met his darkened gaze, a shade of smile tainting your lips. “And yet, you’re trying to appeal to my reason while looking at me like that.” You left your seat and grabbed your backpack. “It’s getting late. Finish with this one and get some rest.”

Then you left, not waiting for a reply.

It was one of the warm nights and you decided to take a walk. A promenade near the river was not as crowded as you expected, making your journey home way more enjoyable. With your favourite tunes seeping through the headphones, you took in the view, the city lights reflecting in the water only added to the ambiance.

The phone buzzed in your pocket.

_//_ N _: I can’t believe you left like that_

You chuckled, texting him back.

_//why, you had any plans?_

The answer came almost instantly.

_//N: maybe_

He was adorable. But–

_//have you finished with the lock?_

_//N: …no_

_//N: wait are you gonna use our conversation as some sort of motivational tool now_

Even if you weren’t, after getting a message like that?

You just had to.

_//maybe?_

_//N: jesus_

_//sex is but a great metaphorical carrot. besides - it’s all about that delayed gratification and whatnot_

A moment of silence.

And then:

_//N: you’re evil._

That spiteful period at the end got you snickering loudly, earning you some curious looks.

A huge grin lit up your face.

_//gn <3_

* * *

You must admit, that game was quite exciting.

And Neil was getting better at it, and soon _implying_ became no longer enough to make him lose his focus.

At first, it was relatively easy to prompt a blush or a slight tremble of a hand. But with every next attempt, he grew more and more resilient, and soon, the only indication that he heard you was the fire burning in his eyes.

Then you got really mean, throwing some ambitious tasks in front of him, tricky locks and complex mechanisms, as your teasing got more straightforward.

And descriptive.

It became hard to shake it off once you left the training room. The lingering looks. The accidental touches. The atmosphere, almost electric. In other words - the heat sink was ready to be popped, and it was no longer a matter of _if_ , but more of _when_.

“4 minutes.”

Neil barely nodded, lips pressed together and brows knitted in concentration.

3 locks in 15 minutes. Difficult, but doable, considering his current level of skill. Too bad he’d slacked at the second one, not leaving too much time for the final push. Sure, you didn’t go easy on him along the way, but the real challenge was supposed to be a race against the clock, so now you just watched him with bated breath.

_Click_.

You checked the time.

“45 seconds”

“Goddamnit!” he uttered through gritted teeth, readjusting cramping fingers on the tools.

“Come on, you’ve got this,” you said, taking a step closer.

Another _click_.

He didn’t know that there was only one pin left to set. You did, that’s why you tried your best not to reveal it with your expression. Too early to celebrate, anyway.

“Nine… eight… seven… six… five…”

That’s when you heard a final _click_ and you looked up from your phone, only to see the lock giving in and opening up.

“Yeah!” Neil cheered, banging a fist on the table and tossing the tools away.

You smiled, hiding the phone in the pocket. “Good job, I knew–” but before you could finish a sentence, Neil sprung up from his chair and closed the gap between you, then cupped your face with his palms and kissed you hungrily.

You froze for a second, but as your mind caught up, you kissed him back, tugging at the light blue shirt. He smiled against your lips and made you back away until you hit the wall, huffing at the sudden coldness of the surface. But he was bent on kissing you senseless until you both ended up gasping for air.

“You’re _so_ paying for all that teasing,” he panted, running the tip of the tongue through his swollen lips. “Not to mention, you’ve given me a few fascinating ideas, and I’m very much willing to give them all a try.”

You grinned, fighting with your evidently short-circuiting brain for a grasp of coherence as his hands traveled down your body.

“My, my, _all_ of them?”

“The night is young,” - his throaty chuckle sent a wave of heat through your body - “and I’m up for a challenge.”

“I’m counting on it,” you breathed, burying your fingers in his hair, and pulling him into a kiss again.

Actually, the challenge started right away, and that meant getting to Neil’s place, as the company conveniently rented him a room in a nearby hotel. Walking distance, but in your current quite heated state, every distance seemed _way_ too long. Especially when you had to keep up appearances.

At least until the elevator’s door closed behind you.

The dark gaze fixed on you. Your breaths intertwining. His bottom lip between your teeth. The five o’clock shadow under your fingertips. Your hands sliding under his shirt. His knee parting your legs. The intoxicating smell of his cologne. Your quiet moan. His tongue slipping into your mouth–

A quiet sound announced you reached your floor, and you stumbled out into the corridor, giggling, unable to keep hands and lips off each other.

Your back hit the door, barely missing the knob. Without skipping a beat, Neil reached to the pocket of his pants, then into the other one. When he tried the third one, you broke the kiss, your expression nothing but innocent.

“Looking for this?” you asked, showing him a key card.

He furrowed his brows. “Yes, thank you, I don’t know how–…” he started, but when he tried to snatch his property, you hid your hand behind your back. His jaw went slack as it dawned on him and he stared at you in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am.”

He groaned.

“You’re unbelievable,” he uttered as he pulled out his wallet. “Credit card?”

“Only if you’re not overly attached to it.” The roguish lights danced in your gaze. “Especially when you’re in a hurry,” you hinted, palming over the bulk in his pants. Neil squeezed his eyes shut, biting back a moan, and you stifled a chuckle. “Try any membership card.”

He glared at you. “You’re _so_ in for it, you have no idea.”

“Promises, promises,” you pouted, trying not to burst into laughter at his wounded expression. “Work it.”

“Gladly, just tell me what to do.”

So you walked him through the process.

Fortunately, Neil really was a fast learner, making the door give way in no time.

“Good boy,” you hummed, and the blue eyes flared up.

He crashed his lips on yours, closing the door behind you.

Then he gave you a taste of what was coming for you.

And then some more.

And then…

…he gave you _all_.


End file.
